Letting Go(109)
Resolve settled over her, removing the blanket of despair that had clung so stubbornly for the last several days. She was not a coward and she wasn’t weak. She’d faced utter devastation twice and she’d survived. She’d survive this, whatever this turned out to be.
“Let me get dressed and then take me to Dash’s,” Joss said, finally making her decision.
It scared the holy hell out of her, but she had to try.
THIRTY-TWO
“YOU don’t have to do this, darlin’,” Tate said, glancing into his rearview mirror at Joss, who sat in the backseat as he and Chessy drove her to Dash’s.
“Yes, I do,” Joss said quietly. “This has to be resolved, Tate. I have to know if we have a chance. If Dash can trust me. If he loves me.”
“Well, I can’t speak on the trust issue but I know the bastard loves you,” Tate said grimly. “I’ve never seen a man so wasted over a woman. If I wasn’t so pissed at him for hurting you the way he did, I could almost pity the man.”
Joss smiled faintly.
As they neared Dash’s house, Chessy turned in her seat and fixed her stare on Joss. “I’m not going to leave you there with no way home. I don’t want you to have to depend on Dash. I’ll have my phone on me. You call me the minute you’re ready to leave. If I don’t hear from you in an hour, I’m coming back. An hour is long enough to hear him grovel.”
Joss laughed. “You seem so certain he’s going to grovel.”
“Oh, he’ll grovel,” Tate muttered. “A man as desperate as he is will do anything to get back in your good graces. And that’s the way it should be. When a man fucks up as badly as he has, he needs to humble himself.”
Chessy glanced sideways at her husband, a look Joss didn’t miss. There was pain in her eyes and it hurt Joss to see her friend hurting. She shook away thoughts of Chessy and Tate. They’d work things out. Tate seemed oblivious to there even being a problem. Once Chessy got the courage to confront him and work it out, all would be well. Joss was confident of that. She didn’t believe for a minute that Tate was having an affair. Why would he when he had Chessy?
Chessy was beautiful, smart. She had a smile that would light up an entire city block. And she was utterly submissive, entrusting her entire well-being to her husband’s hands. He’d be a fool to ever risk that for a piece of ass on the side.
“Okay, we’re here,” Chessy said. “Are you sure this is what you want, Joss? It’s not too late to change your mind. We can take you back right now. Just say the word.”
Joss sucked in a deep breath. “No. I’m ready. One way or another, I need this to be over. Either we’ll have a new beginning or I’ll have closure, but either way, it ends tonight.”
• • •
DASH paced the floor of his living room, agitation gripping him by the balls. Four days. Four goddamn days Joss had been out of the hospital and he hadn’t so much as laid eyes on her. He’d gone to the hospital on the day she was going to be released, only to find she’d already been discharged into Tate and Chessy’s care. He’d been fully prepared to sweep in, take over and not back down. He had every intention of taking her back to their home, where he’d take absolute care of her until she was fully recovered. But Chessy and Tate had taken her to their house, an impenetrable fucking fortress for all the luck Dash had had getting in.
His calls, texts and e-mails had gotten no response from Joss. Silence lay as heavy as concrete between them and with each passing day, with each failed attempt to reach her, he’d felt her slipping further and further away.
What the hell was he supposed to do? How could he lay his heart at her feet if he couldn’t get to her in order to do it? He reached for his phone, wanting to call her again, but he knew she wouldn’t answer. Just as she hadn’t answered the dozen other times he’d called her today.
Despair was his constant companion and he cursed his wayward tongue. If only he hadn’t let his anger—and paralyzing fear—control his thoughts and words that fateful morning. He was to blame. Not Joss. Him. He’d done this to her. To them. And to any chance he had of having forever with her.
He bowed his head, regret burning a hole in his gut.
He was so absorbed in his grief that he didn’t hear the car in the drive. Never knew anyone was there until a soft knock sounded at his door.
His head jerked in the direction of the sound, in no mood to deal with whoever had encroached on his private hell. When a knock sounded again, firmer and louder than before, he swore and strode angrily to answer, fully intending to bite off the head of the unfortunate idiot disturbing his self-recrimination.